


The Great Breakout

by xspica



Series: The ingenuity of a Cat named Sherlock [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: AU, Gen, Great Escape, cat!lock, partners in crime
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-08
Updated: 2013-11-08
Packaged: 2017-12-31 21:35:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1036641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xspica/pseuds/xspica
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What is worst than being bored to death in a boring household? </p><p>It is being bored to death in the most boring part of the boring household and being confined in it where he could feel the boredom killing all his brain cells. And to cure all these, Sherlock had the perfect solution and of course, to get back at the unlovable Mycroft that he simply had no love for.</p><p>But well, maybe the only saving grace is the fact that they had locked him in with John.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Great Breakout

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mydogwatson](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mydogwatson/gifts).



> This fanfic is inspired by a [video](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V2Uu02lRMpY) that I was watching during work (oops), where a cat helped the dog to escape the kitchen. Somehow, I just felt this urge to write a story on the ingenuity of the cat. 
> 
> Hope this is enjoyable and that this fanfic is written for [mydogwatson](http://archiveofourown.org/users/mydogwatson/pseuds/mydogwatson) simply because her fanfics are so beautifully written, so in character and so very delightful. I want to thank her for all the stories that she had written and I had tremendously enjoyed. And this, is it. I really hope that my writing is ... still acceptable and not dull. Obviously still not good with summary. Sigh.

* * *

 

"Mycroft! We are heading out, could you help to lock Sherlock and John in the kitchen?" He heard the woman shouted from the hallway and perked his ears. He lifted his head from his paws and glanced around the room, wondering if something interesting would finally happen.  _Boring_. Nothing ever happens in this dull household and with that realisation, he plops his head back on to his paws.  _  
_

Just then, Sherlock heard the tiny footsteps of the little child whom he heard the woman addresses as 'Mycroft' walked into the room and picked him up swiftly without much expression on his face. Mycroft had neither tenderness not patience in his actions and held a stoic expression as he carried out the mundane task that his mother had entasked him to do. Upon reaching the kitchen, Mycroft simply dropped the cat onto the floor without a thought and slammed the door behind him.

Sherlock snarled at the closed door, expressing his displeasure of being dropped onto the floor like he was nothing. That boy, had absolutely no love for him and Mycroft obviously would never grow to like him either. Sherlock was _certain_ of that. That didn't matter, because Sherlock has no heart and had never liked that boy who just don't seem to act his age.  _Shouldn't boys his age be catching butterfly and rolling around in mud, getting all dirty instead of wearing such a 'grown-up' look and walking upright with a strange umbrella that never left his side ?_

"Sherlock, Sherlock!" Sherlock heard the concerned woofs behind him and immediately straightened his back before turning gracefully to the Labrador standing behind him. 

"Yes, John?" Sherlock asked, in a  _bored_ tone, as usual. John did not reply but simply came forward and circled him, while sniffing the entire time. "Are you hurt anywhere? I saw him drop you like a sack of potatoes. That surely must have hurt."

He pressed a paw onto the hind legs of Sherlock while looking very intently at Sherlock, "Did that hurt? Are you injured?" 

"No! Stop that!" Sherlock brushed John's paw off him and stalked off into the direction of the kitchen counter. He leaped up swiftly onto the countertop and looked down at John in a haughty manner. "How is it possible that a mere child like that," He tilted his head to the expressionless photo of Mycroft hanging at the wall, spitting his words in disgust, "would be able to hurt a genuis like I am? Furthermore, falling from such a height is nothing to a cat."

Sherlock puffed out his chest in pride while he saw the Labrador looking at him in admiration. 

Though the admiration John was giving him was very statisfying but he quickly grew bored when he was confined to just the kitchen with no places to go and explore (even though this is really just a small house). He began pacing around the kitchen in annoyance and was simply mumbling to himself, " _bored, dull, imbeciles_ " with every step he took. John who had been observing nearby felt his friend's restlessness and wondered what he could do to help him. 

But his help wasn't needed, it seemed, because it appears that Sherlock already figured out the perfect solution. 

"John! We are going to break out! " There was finally a twinge of excitement he hear in the voice of Sherlock and it took him a while to register what his friend had just told him. 

Sherlock looked at the blank expression on John's face and he couldn't help but roll his eyes and sigh. " _Dogs._ Can be so dull at times! JOHN, KEEP UP WITH ME. I SAID, LET'S/ BREAK OUT .OF .THIS. UNINTERESTING. KITCHEN."

"What?" John finally got the message when Sherlock raised his voice and articulated each word with a staccato that would simply mean, "Why do I have to repeat myself for you?". John gazed around uncertainly, "Are you sure that's a good idea? Maybe we should wait till the humans come home."

"NO." Sherlock jumped off the countertop and landed on the wooden floor. He simply paced over to the scratching post by the door and leaped up in one swift motion. "I refuse to stay confined within these four walls and let my brain cells die in boredom." 

Once again on high grounds, Sherlock looked down at John who was sitting on the ground, looking earnestly at him, and spoke.

"I simply, would not allow that."

Finally, John sighed. "Whatever you are going to do, just... go ahead." He shook his head. There was no stopping that cat.

Sherlock smirked, already expecting that to happen. He simply turned his head towards the doorknob and sniffed it, poked at it and examined it in great concentration. 

"Obviously from the looks of it, there must be some kind of movement that can trigger the mechanism inside the door so that it would open." Sherlock sniffed at it again, put both paws onto the doorknob and tried to turn it to the right. 

The door didn't budge. 

He frowned and tried again. The door remained steadfast in its position. 

He leaped off his scratching post, sniffed at the door while studying the door in greatest detail. John, sitting beside the scratching post, looked around the room cautiously to ensure that there is really no one who would catch them in the act. He didn't want his friend Sherlock to get into more troubles than he already is in. When he looked back at his friend, he saw the expression that his friend had when he had figured something out.

"LEFT !"

With that expression that John did not know what to make out of, Sherlock jumped right back onto the scratching post and grabbed the door knob. John saw the cat trying to get the knob to turn to the left and with a small movement of the body, Sherlock had opened the door. 

"Wow. That," John turned up to look at his friend, "was _brilliant,_ Sherlock!" His amazement was written all over his face and his tail wagged furiously in joy. His worry disappeared at the brilliance Sherlock had shown him. Sherlock held the smug look on his face. He enjoyed it whenever John showers him with praise because his brilliance and intelligence was certainly unappreciated by the humans of the house. 

Sherlock leaped from his scratching post, through the gap of the door and proudly exclaimed, "Of course, I am afterall, Sherlock." He held his head up high as he entered the hall, eyes flickering around the hall, wondering which furniture would be experimented on this afternoon. He licked his paws in delight as his gaze settled on the woman's favorite armchair with a wicked glint. 

 

* * *

 

Obviously, whatever that happened to the chair in the end made Mycroft more displeased with Sherlock when he heard his mother shrieked, "MYCROOOOOOOOOFT! I TOLD YOU TO LOCK THE CAT AND DOG IN THE KITCHEN!" as they returned from their short trip out. Thanks, but no thanks to that cat. 

Mycroft's Mental Note: The cat is a devil in disguise. A. Very. Clever. One. 


End file.
